


Never Stroke A Tigers Stripes

by angryschnauzer



Category: Mission: Impossible (Movies)
Genre: 18+, F/M, Fingering, NSFW, thigh riding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-04
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-17 20:15:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29846910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angryschnauzer/pseuds/angryschnauzer
Summary: Summary; Tired hands wander, and when sat next to your superior officer aboard a flight back to DC, you get yourself in a bit of a predicament.(Wholly based on the realisation that there is a stripe of fabric ‘tuxedo style’ running down the leg of Henry/August’s pants legs in Mission Impossible Fallout)
Relationships: August Walker (Mission: Impossible)/Reader
Comments: 5
Kudos: 45





	Never Stroke A Tigers Stripes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Dark_Frejya](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dark_Frejya/gifts).



Never Stroke A Tigers Stripes

47 hours; that’s how long you’d been awake. The mission had bounced around half the continent, with helicopter rides, car chases and all manner of fights and infiltrations. But in the end it had all worked out, and now you were sat on the commercial flight home, beyond exhausted but also buzzing from so much adrenaline that you knew you wouldn’t be able to sleep until you were back in your own bed and had eeked at least two if not three orgasms out of your body to give you enough serotonin to finally let your brain relax.

It was a small charter flight, a Boeing 737 or similar, and as your mission had ended in a well known tourist spot, it was just easiest to hop onto a charter flight back to DC. The battery on your phone had died long ago, your seatmate squeezed into the isle seat with his long legs stretched out beside you meaning you were against the window. In the last few rows at the back where you were there were only two seats per row, and with the behemoth of man that August Walker was, you could barely see the rest of the plane beyond your seat. 

He was tapping away on his phone, and you absentmindedly rested your head back against the headrest, your hands slipping to the sides of your thighs, just as your fingers touched a seam of fabric. 

With your gaze still firmly fixed on an indefinite point out of the window you explored the stripe of fabric, presuming it was part of the seat or armrest, a stripe of smooth fabric maybe an inch wide, sewn onto a firm wide expanse of slightly rougher fabric. The fabric was warm to touch, the stitching a stimuli under your work tired fingers, the ridges tactile and pleasing. For maybe fifteen minutes you continued to absentmindedly stroke the fabric, before it suddenly flexed beneath your touch and a bolt of realisation shot through your mind; it wasn’t the seat.

“Shit” you muttered under your breath, squeezing your eyes shut. 

You felt August shift, your co-worker and superior officer, his breath warm on your skin;

“Why did you stop?”

-

The door to your apartment crashed open, the handle making a dent in the drywall behind it but you didn’t care, your arms were wrapped around August’s shoulders and your legs around his waist, his lips on yours as he blindly reached for the door and slammed it shut before finally pulling away;

“Bedroom?”

“First door on the right”

With more bumping into furniture he finally made it to your bedroom, the mattress hitting the back of his knees before he softly settled on the covers, bringing you with him until you were straddling his waist. As the kiss broke he quickly worked on the fly of your pants, before with a grunt he ripped the entire inseam of them. Next casualty of his muscles were your panties, but as he plunged two thick fingers into your soaked canal you cried out at the stretch as he growled at you through gritted teeth;

“The way you kept stroking my leg on the plan, i’ve had a fucking raging hard-on since the first second you touched me…”

“I...I didn’t even realise it was you… i thought it was the seat…”

“Well now you’re gonna get yourself off on my thigh, then maybe i’ll give you what you need, Miss ‘need three orgasms to go to sleep’... yes i heard your delirious muttering too”

He lifted you and placed you to straddle his clothed thigh;

“C’mon pet, ride…”

He flexed his thigh muscle beneath you and you let out a groan, steadying yourself as you gripped the sides of his waist and you started to rock back and forth, relishing the friction of the rough fabric, the smooth stripe against your inner thigh as you moved.

His hands gripped your hips and started to move you faster, pushing you ever closer to your peak before it finally hit you like a freight train and you came with a scream as you soaked his pants leg.

Quickly flipping you over he unfastened himself;

“Well done Pet, thats one of three” and he plunged himself deep into you; “Two more to go”


End file.
